


o’ valley of plenty

by lileau



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M, Witcher!Kurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:54:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22324408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lileau/pseuds/lileau
Summary: The world had been so much simpler before Blaine loved him.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	o’ valley of plenty

**Author's Note:**

> hello yes this is a witcher!kurt AU. all my knowledge of the witcher comes from the netflix show so sorry if this doesn’t line up with the game/book lore !!

Pav is exhausted by the time they’re in view of the tavern. Kurt, on the other hand, hasn’t felt this awake in months. He fastens Pav’s reins to a post in the adjoining stable and slings his bag over his shoulder, bidding his horse farewell with a fond scratch to her neck.

The door opens to a wave of chatter and song and lamplight. Silence doesn’t overcome the crowd when he enters, not like it had when he’d first come here. Instead, he receives several hearty pats on the back as he approaches the bar. Some men try to invite him to their table, some women try to pull him towards the band to dance, but he simply smiles appeasingly and carries on.

He leans against the bar, watching as Blaine pours drinks for several significantly intoxicated men. Kurt’s the only other person at the bar, everyone else already far enough gone this late into the night. Blaine doesn’t raise his eyes as he collects the money the men slam on the counter, nor as he walks towards Kurt, busy collecting empty tankards along the bar and putting them behind it. “What can I do for you, sir?”

Kurt clears his throat, but still Blaine does not look up, now busy wiping down the counter. “A room for the night, please.”

Kurt’s surprised Blaine’s neck doesn’t snap considering the speed with which he whips his head up, cloth dropping uselessly to the counter. The noise must continue around them, but Kurt no longer hears it, not with Blaine so close after so long. Neither of them say anything and Blaine’s expression is, annoyingly, completely unreadable.

“Son,” Pam’s voice cuts through the quiet, but Kurt can’t bear to tear his eyes away quite yet. “Our guest asked for a room.”

Blaine clenches his jaw - _ah, there it is_ \- and pushes himself away from the counter. Kurt feels his breath been torn from him when their gaze breaks, but at least he can look at Pam now, smiling at him a little sadly. He reaches for the pouch of gold in his bag, but Pam laughs kindly and waves him off.

“You don’t pay a penny under this roof, Witcher,” she says, just as Blaine practically pelts a key at his chest. He catches it against his shirt while Blaine glares at him, as if challenging to say something. Pam gets there before he can. “Come help me carry this barrel of ale from the cellar, Blaine.”

Blaine seemingly can’t get away fast enough. Pam pats Kurt’s hand before she turns to follow her son.

Kurt takes that his cue to head upstairs, with the disappointed jeers of the drunkards at his back. It’s much quieter up here, even quieter when he closes the door of his room behind him. He doesn’t want the time to think, so he busies himself with unpacking his bag, rummaging through until he finds his nightclothes and a vial of sleeping draught, not that he thinks it’ll be of much use tonight.

He’s never stayed in a guest room here, and he’s struck with how unlike Blaine’s room it is. Entirely cold and unwelcoming in comparison. Still, it’s as close to him as he can get, so he’ll take it.

He’s just pulled his shirt over his head when the door bursts open, and Kurt looks over his shoulder to see Blaine, wide eyed and mouth agape, jumping slightly when the door hits the wall.

Kurt raises his eyebrows. “It’s very late. You’ll wake all your patrons with that racket.”

Blaine frowns in response. “I thought it’d be locked.”

Kurt turns to face him, smiling when Blaine drags his eyes from his face to his bare chest and flicks them back up again. “Why would I have locked it before you came in?”

He gets no answer except for Blaine turning to close the door quietly behind him. Kurt hears the rusty click of the lock sliding into place. When he turns back around, he takes three steps forward, slowly but with a confidence that’s betrayed by the look on his face, until his nose is mere inches from Kurt’s. Blaine takes a breath. “Where have you been?”

“A mage I owed, she needed my help with a ghoul,” he explains, but Blaine’s eyes only narrow. “It turned out to be several ghouls, took a little longer than I’d expected.”

It turned out to be a whole hoard of them, in fact, but he doesn’t think any number of ghouls will earn him much sympathy. And-

“And why did you return here? After leaving without saying goodbye?”

He thought right.

“How could I pass up free room and board for the night?” Kurt teases. Blaine holds his gaze, but his eyes suddenly become slightly glassy and he begins to blink a little faster. Kurt reaches for his face, startled, cradles his jaw in both hands as Blaine wilts against him and lets a tear slip down his cheek. “I promised I’d never say goodbye to you.”

Blaine rolls his eyes, grabbing Kurt’s wrists and throwing them away from his face. “You didn’t have you take that so literally, you bastard.”

Kurt scans his face, taking it in for the first time in nearly a year. He’s beautiful as the day they met, even with the newly darkened skin under eyes. Kurt has had a long life, long enough that many days pass by without even making an impression on him. Yet he remembers every day with Blaine. He remembers Blaine approaching him in the tavern, when no one else in the village would so much as look his way. He remembers Blaine pleading him to scare off some thieves who would ransack his mother’s business and terrorise the people here whenever they pleased. He’d refused the small bag of gold Blaine had slipped him and done it for free.

He’d never before, and hasn’t since, taken a job without payment. He has to make a living, he won’t steal and kill like those he’s paid to stop. Blaine had followed him around for days afterwards, pushing the coin into his hands at every chance he got, but it always made it’s way back behind his mother’s bar.

Blaine had later told him, laid on Kurt’s chest with the early morning breeze floating through the open window, that he‘d never believed his friends when they’d warned him that Witchers don’t feel human emotions.

“No?” Kurt had hummed, toying with the soft hair at the nape of his neck. “Why’s that?”

Blaine had shook his head, eyes dancing with mischief as he replied, “I knew you were in love with me the first time we met.”

There’s none of that mischief in his eyes now, and Kurt wonders how he can live with himself if he’s responsible for extinguishing that light.

He tries again. “Blaine, I-“

He’s cut off by a body sagging against his and Kurt can feel Blaine exhaustion flowing off him in waves. “There was a travelling bard,” he begins, fists balled up against Kurt’s abdomen and speaking into the skin of his neck. “He came here singing a ballad about your death.”

Kurt wraps his arms around him and Blaine doesn’t struggle, just sniffs as Kurt holds him tight. “You can never trust bards. They’ll sing anything for a few coin.”

Blaine giggles, and it’s the most heavenly sound Kurt thinks he’s ever heard. Blaine lifts his head from Kurt’s neck and looks directly at his lips. He’s smiling. It’s the first time Kurt’s seen that smile in so long. He leans down.

Blaine’s fists press back against his chest keeping him at a distance. He’s smirking faintly. He knows, he knows the power he has over Kurt.

“You’re hurt,” Blaine says steadily, looking at the very nearly healed scar across his upper lip. “Let me help you.”

Kurt frowns at him, bemused. He supposes he shouldn’t have expected to come here and immediately receive a welcome home kiss. “You know I’m not hurt.”

Blaine just keeps smiling taking Kurt by the hand and leading him to the steel tub full of water in the corner of the room. He repeats, “Let me help you.”

Kurt follows, lets Blaine undress him the rest of the way. The water’s cold when he steps in, but he lays his hands just above the still surface and warms it with magic. Blaine kneels by his side and scoops a jug into the water. He pours it out carefully through Kurt’s hair, his fingers following after it to rid the strands of any tangles. He gently dabs a cloth over a narrow wound that cuts through Kurt’s eyebrow. “It suits you.”

Kurt rolls his eyes and Blaine laughs again, until he sees the violent blue purple bite on Kurt’s shoulder. He’d gotten too cocky with the ghouls and let one overpower him. The pain of the bite wasn’t so bad, but the venom had afforded him days of delirium afterwards. He decides not to tell Blaine that as he washes it attentively then sets the jug on the floor and softly presses his lips just above the wound.

Kurt just looks at him for a moment, then pulls his arm away from Blaine’s mouth to lift his chin with his hand. Blaine has his eyes closed and his brows drawn together.

“Blaine,” Kurt pleads.

Blaine opens his eyes. He raises up on his knees and supports himself with his hands on Kurt’s shoulders, knows that Kurt won’t let him fall, then leans down and seals their lips together.

Kurt can’t remember the last time he cried, definitely before he became what he is, yet he feels tears burn behind his eyelids now. He inhales sharply through his nose, presses upwards so they’re as close as they can be. Blaine hands are clawing at his skin, his fingers digging in as though he’s afraid Kurt might evaporate if he doesn’t hold on tight. He pulls back, but only far enough to rest his forehead against Kurt’s cheek.

“Let’s go to bed.”

* * *

The sun is just breaking the horizon but they’re still awake, their legs tangled and Kurt’s hand gripping Blaine’s on the bed between them. It’s been quiet for a while, so quiet that Kurt’s wondering if Blaine has fallen asleep when he speaks again, so softly that Kurt has to strain his ears in the silence to hear it. 

“You can’t leave me like that again, Kurt.”

Kurt starts to shake his head, but Blaine continues, “I won’t take you back if you leave me again.”

“I know,” Kurt says after a while. He doesn’t think he’d survive a world in which Blaine doesn’t love him. He thinks back to before, when he’d go from one town to the next, doing the bidding of anyone with enough coin. The world had been so much simpler before Blaine loved him and he wouldn’t go back for anything in the world.

He pulls Blaine’s hand to his lips, turns it over and presses a kiss to the inside of his wrist. “I’ll never leave you again.”


End file.
